


Morning

by camwolfe



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-04 13:05:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6659236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camwolfe/pseuds/camwolfe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Bucky tell each other everything, and they always have. So when they're dragged out of bed in the middle of the night and held at gunpoint, Steve is understandably confused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Only two parts to this one!!

Steve’s alarm went off twenty minutes after Bucky’s.

Steve didn’t even bother opening his eyes. He sleepily ran his hand over his bedside table before he found his phone and turned off the alarm. He blearily sat up and rubbed his hands over his face.

“Buck,” he said, his throat a little hoarse. “You’re gonna be late.”

“Uh huh,” Bucky said, and didn’t lift his face from the pillow.

“Alright then,” Steve mumbled. “But it’s not my fault if you don’t have time to eat breakfast.”

“Okay,” Bucky said. He didn’t even crack his eyes open.

Steve stood up carefully, making sure that he didn’t get a head rush. He stumbled into the kitchen and started making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for breakfast. He put Bucky’s into a container for him to eat on the way to work.

Steve finished his own breakfast and cleaned up the dishes before he leaned back into the bedroom.

“Bucky,” he said. “I know it’s warm and you’re comfy, but it’s already 7:30.”

“What?” Bucky shouted. He rolled out of bed and then tripped on the blankets tangled in his legs, landing with a crash on the hardwood floor.

Steve cracked up as Bucky crawled for their closet.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Bucky said as he frantically pulled on his jeans. “Shit. I’m going to be late _again._ ”

“Nah, you’ll make it if you leave right now,” Steve said, leaning in the doorway. “And hey, I tried to wake you up. Plus, I had to suffer through your goddamn alarm because you wouldn’t turn it off.”

“Lorde is an excellent choice of morning ringtone,” Bucky said as he pulled his socks on, balancing on one foot. “It’s melodic.”

“It was melodic the first two hundred times,” Steve pointed out. “Now it’s just irritating. Sam started playing it the other day in the office and I nearly ripped his speakers out.”

“Sam has good taste in music,” Bucky said as he ran past Steve into the kitchen. “Fuck, where’d I leave my lunch?”

“You left it on the second shelf in the fridge. Also, I made you breakfast.”

“Aw,” Bucky said, smiling for the first time that morning. “Thanks, Steve.”

Steve checked his watch again. “7:33.”

“Fuck,” Bucky muttered again, shoving his lunch into his bag and grabbing the sandwich Steve had made. “You’ll be home for dinner, right?”

“Yeah, probably around five.”

“Okay,” Bucky said, darting back to kiss Steve quickly. “I’ll probably pick something up on the way home, I don’t feel like cooking tonight.”

“Sounds good,” Steve said, and Bucky dove for the door. Steve locked it behind him and then headed off to start getting ready.

Bucky’s job was on the other side of town, which is why he had to leave so much earlier than Steve did. He worked at a marketing firm, which he didn’t love but liked well enough to keep doing it.

Steve worked at a large computer animation company that specialized in film contracting. They didn’t handle movies that were entirely CGI, but if someone needed a car crash added in, they’d get the call. Steve loved it, and he still couldn’t believe that he actually had a career that he not only enjoyed, but that paid well.

God, if he could go back in time to his fourteen-year-old self and reassure him. “You’re still with Bucky,” he’d say. “You have a job you love and an apartment with an air-purifier so you can actually sleep through the night, for once. You and Bucky are looking at getting a dog, and you’ve put enough money away to afford that trip through South America that the two of you have always wanted to do.”

His teenage self would lose his mind.

Steve dragged himself back to the present and finished washing his hair. He took his meds before he left, and marked off which ones he took on the calendar they kept on the fridge.

The bus was a few minutes late, but there were enough seats that Steve didn’t feel too guilty about sitting down. He normally stood if the bus was crowded, in case someone needed to sit down more than he did. His knees were aching that morning, though, and he still felt a little tired and sick from accidentally eating gluten earlier in the week. So he sat down and just kept his eye out for people who might need his seat.

His commute wasn’t too bad in the mornings, so he made it to work with enough time to buy Sam a coffee and himself a hot chocolate before heading into the building.

“Steve,” Sam said when Steve shouldered open the door to the office they shared. “Steve. Oh my god. You didn’t.”

“I did,” Steve said, and held out the coffee.

“God bless,” Sam murmured, taking the coffee and closing his eyes. “May all good things come your way.”

“It’s just coffee,” Steve said. He dropped his bag on the floor next to his desk and flopped down into his chair.

Sam shook his head. “I know you can’t drink caffeine, Steve, and so you don’t know. You don’t _know_.”

“Alright, I don’t know,” Steve agreed. He spun around in his chair and started booting up his computer.

“Tabitha from down the hall just got engaged,” Sam said. “This morning, apparently.”

“Aw,” Steve said. “That’s great, I’m happy for her.” He looked up just in time to see Sam opening his mouth to say something else. “Sam. Don’t ask when I’m getting married.”

“I wasn’t going to!”

“Yes, you were.”

“Well, I dunno, man,” Sam said, kicking his feet up onto his desk and taking another careful sip of his coffee. “I just know that you want to, that’s all.”

“Yeah, but Bucky doesn’t, so that’s that,” Steve said.

“I can tell that it bothers you, though.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Steve said, and caught Sam’s doubtful look. “It doesn’t! I’m fine with the way we are. I just don’t really understand why, that’s the only thing. Like, he never gives a good reason for it.”

“Did you ask him why?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “A few times, but he just gets grumpy and closed off. So, I stopped asking.”

“That’s weird. I can’t imagine Bucky being grumpy and closed off about anything.”

“I know,” Steve said. “That’s why I leave it alone, it clearly really bothers him.”

“Hmm,” Sam said. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. Also, my date went great last night, thanks for asking.”

“What?” Steve asked indignantly. “You didn’t tell me you had a date!”

Sam laughed. “Yes, I did! Last week!”

“You didn’t – oh, yeah, you did. I forgot. How’d it go?”

 

The rest of Steve’s day went by quickly. They were working on a big project, and Steve’s responsibilities just kept increasing. He liked it, though. He liked having more input on a lot of the larger decisions, and it was nice to be trusted by his coworkers.

Sam was on the phone when Steve left for the day, so they just waved to each other as Steve left the office.

He had to stand on the way home, and the hot air inside the bus irritated his throat and lungs. By the time he got home, he was too warm and tired and a little grumpy.

His knees twinged on his way up the stairs, and the ache in his hip that was always there now started to get stronger. He was tired, too. Too tired for how much sleep he’d gotten last night. He’d been feeling like this for over a month now, and he’d finally made a doctor’s appointment for the next week. For anyone else, it would probably be nothing. Iron deficiency, maybe. For Steve, there was a good chance it was going to be something a lot worse.  

The smell of Steve’s favourite takeout wafted over him when he opened the door.

“Hey,” Bucky said. He was sitting at the table, spooning food onto his plate from one of the containers. “Perfect timing, I was gonna have to start without you.”

“Sorry,” Steve said, kicking his shoes off and locking the door behind him. “They closed two lanes right in front of my building, it took the bus forever to get through.”

Bucky frowned at him. “You look tired. Are you getting sick?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Steve said. He sat down in his chair and let his head drop to the table. “Long day. Also, it’s too hot outside.”

“Here,” Bucky said, sliding a container across the table to him. “Let fresh spring rolls reinvigorate you.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, morosely spooning one onto his plate. “How was your day?”

“Eh, it was fine. Nothing too exciting. Thanks for making me breakfast, though, I would have been starving. I didn’t even get a chance to eat lunch today.”

“No problem,” Steve said, and took a bite of his spring roll. It _was_ kind of reinvigorating.

“Natasha and Clint want us to go out with them on Friday. You wanna go?”

“That depends on where,” Steve said.

“Well, I thought maybe that karaoke bar – “

“No.”

“Why not?” Bucky said plaintively. “You don’t have to sing if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not my singing that I’m embarrassed about,” Steve said. “Well, yes, it is, but I’m not going to sing so that’s not a problem. It’s the secondhand embarrassment from everyone else that’ll kill me.”

“Fine,” Bucky said. “What about that place we went last week? The ones with all the pool tables?”

“Yeah, that was alright,” Steve agreed. “Can I bring Sam?”

“Of course,” Bucky said. “I’ll tell Natasha tomorrow and let her know we’re in. Did you and Sam get enough work done on your project?”

Steve started ranting about work, and that took them all the way through dinner. He dragged himself to the couch and turned on the tv when they were finished eating, while Bucky cleaned up the dishes.

“Do you want to take the leftovers for lunch tomorrow?” Bucky asked.

“Sure,” Steve said. “Actually, no, maybe you should take them. I’ll have time to make myself something in the morning.”

“I can do that too,” Bucky said, coming to join him on the couch.

“Yeah, you say that every day, and then you always sleep in the next morning.”

Bucky sighed. “I’m just so tired in the mornings. I don’t know how you do it.”

Steve yawned. “Determination and the knowledge that if I don’t make food, neither of us are going to eat lunch or breakfast.”

“True,” Bucky allowed. He sprawled out next to Steve, taking up way more than his fair share of the cushions. “What’re we watching?”

“The news.”

“I hate the news,” Bucky complained. “Let’s watch that show about dogs having jobs.”

“We’ve already seen all of it!”

“Okay, fine,” Bucky said. “Surely there’s something less depressing on than the news.”

Steve scowled and flipped back to the channel guide. “Here, how about this. This is about ballet dancers following their dreams.”

“Aw, that sounds inspirational,” Bucky said. “Let’s do it.”

Steve rolled his eyes and clicked on the channel. He grumpily crawled backward until he was snuggled up against Bucky’s chest, and then tugged the blanket over both of them.

“Wow, just make yourself comfy,” Bucky said in Steve’s ear.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

“I do mind,” Bucky said. “Ow, your elbow is digging into my ribs.”

“What, like this?” Steve said innocently, and dug his elbow in further.

“Motherfucker- “ Bucky said, and they half-wrestled for a few minutes until they were finally rearranged more comfortably.

“Alright,” Steve said. “Now that my evil elbow is no longer interfering with your ribs, let’s watch ballet dancers achieve their goals.”

Their apartment was quiet and warm, and Steve was cozy under the thick blanket they kept on the couch. Bucky’s chest rose and fell slowly, and if Steve listened closely he could hear Bucky’s heartbeat.

“Are you falling asleep?” Bucky asked. “Come on, you can’t fall asleep yet. The ballerinas haven’t even had their opening night.”

“They can do it without me,” Steve mumbled. He was so warm, and his eyes were so heavy.

Bucky said something else, but Steve was drifting off.

 

He woke up some time later to Bucky gently tapping the side of his face.

“Hey, Steve,” Bucky whispered. “Come on, you can’t sleep on the couch.”

“I can and I will,” Steve mumbled without opening his eyes.

“You’ll fuck up your back. Come on, up.”

Steve let Bucky haul him off the couch. He stumbled into the bedroom and collapsed face down on the bed again.

Bucky laughed quietly behind him. “Fine. Guess we’re not having sex tonight, then.”

Steve was already slipping back under. He felt Bucky pull the comforter up over him, and then crawl into bed a few minutes later.

 

Steve woke up some time later. It was dark in their room, and still dark outside.

The apartment was quiet, and Bucky was still sound asleep, curled up beside him.

Steve couldn’t figure out what had woken him up. Maybe he just needed some water.

Steve started to move to get up, and Bucky sat bolt upright beside him.

“Buck – “ Steve started to say, and then Bucky launched himself off the bed.

At the same moment, something moved in the dark corner of the room next to the closet.

Steve scrambled backward, slamming his shoulders into the headboard. Bucky crashed into the person diving at him from the corner, and the two of them went down hard.

They both started to get up, and Bucky pushed his hands down on either side of the man’s head and twisted. The man’s neck snapped with an audible, horrible noise, and Bucky jumped to his feet again. He dove back over the bed and threw open the drawer on his bedside table, pulling out a gun.

Steve stared. He – Bucky – Bucky hated guns, they both hated guns, they’d been to rallies protesting guns -

“Steve!” Bucky shouted, and then more people poured into their room.

They were all wearing some kind of uniform, and all of them were armed. Heavily. Bucky pointed the gun at one of them and pulled the trigger.

It was much louder than Steve had ever thought a gunshot would be. His ears rang, but Bucky was already moving again, lurching for the next person who ran through their bedroom door.

“Bucky,” Steve said again, stunned, and then he was being yanked off the bed by the back of his shirt.

He stumbled, trying to get his feet underneath him. Something cold pressed against the side of his head and he froze.

“Alright,” said the man holding him. “Let’s all take it a down a notch.”

Bucky froze, his chest heaving. He still had his gun (how long had there been a gun in their bedside table?), and he was pointing it at one of the men now crammed into their small bedroom.

“That’s right,” the man said. “We’re all gonna calm down a little.”

“I’ll go with you,” Bucky said. His voice sounded different. It was much rougher than his normal way of speaking. “You want me to work for you? Fine. I’ll come quietly. Just leave him here.”

The man laughed. “Yeah, right. He’s our collateral.”

“He’s not involved in this – “ Bucky tried to say, and the man yanked on Steve’s hoodie again. It dug into his throat, and he choked despite his efforts to stay quiet.

Bucky winced, and the man laughed again.

“Let’s go,” he said. “If I see you make one funny move, he gets a bullet through his head, alright?”

Bucky was glaring. He looked furious, but he didn’t say another word.

“Move,” the man said, and shoved Steve forward.

They made an awkward procession through the apartment. Steve was in front, surrounded on all sides by men with guns in scary dark uniforms. Bucky walked behind him, guns pressed to his head as well.

 _Shit, I forgot to make lunch for tomorrow,_ Steve thought irrationally as they walked through the kitchen. The door to the hallway was sitting open, and Steve could only hope that they hadn’t hurt any of their neighbours. He didn’t understand what was going on, this didn’t – it didn’t make any _sense_. Why were they here? This was like something out of a movie. Steve was just an artist, he’d never held a gun in his life. And Bucky –

Well, Bucky just worked at a marketing company.

But Bucky, who didn’t even like killing a spider on their living room wall, had just snapped a man’s neck and then shot two others without batting an eye.

Bucky, who sat up with Steve all night when he got sick and loved playing board games. Bucky, who told Steve everything, _they told each other everything -_

The building was dark and quiet. Steve stumbled a few times going down the stairs, his shitty joints giving out. Each time he was yanked back up by his hoodie, which made him cough and wheeze a little.

“Healthy specimen you’ve got here,” the man said, and a few of the others laughed. Steve hated them.

They hurried through the doors and out into the cool night air. Steve sucked in a desperate breath and then was shoved unceremoniously into the back of a large truck. There were benches along the walls, and Steve was manhandled into sitting down on one of them.

Bucky was pushed in behind him. About half of the men also climbed in, lining the walls and keeping their guns trained on Bucky.

Steve only had two guns pointed at him. He irrationally felt a little insulted.

The doors slammed shut, and the engine roared to life. Everyone lurched as the truck started moving, and Steve’s head banged against the wall a little.

He felt cold, and strangely numb. He just – couldn’t – _why?_

It was quiet. A few of the men were murmuring to each other, but it was too low for Steve to make out what they were saying.

He looked over at Bucky out of the corner of his eye. Steve was wearing the thick socks, sweatpants, and hoodie that he normally wore to bed, but Bucky was just dressed in a t-shirt and flannel sleep pants. They hadn’t even let him get shoes.

Bucky had his head lowered, but Steve could still see his face. Bucky was looking at Steve out of the corner of his eye, too. He was clenching his jaw, but his eyes were desperately sad.

“I’m sorry,” he mouthed, so subtly that even Steve nearly missed it.

Steve just stared at him, and Bucky’s face fell even more.

Steve wasn’t angry. He wasn’t feeling anything except confusion. Where did Bucky learn to do those things? Why did they have a gun in their bedside table? Why had they been ripped from their apartment and taken to… wherever they were going?

What had Bucky done to warrant this?

They drove until the sound of the city fell away. They must be out on the highway, Steve figured, but he’d completely lost his sense of direction. He had no idea which way they were going.

He started to shiver, despite his efforts to hold still. He was cold at the best of times, and the metal of the bench and the wall were freezing.

One of the men had just started to narrow his eyes at him when the truck stopped abruptly. The doors opened again, and Steve was hauled back out.

“Change of plans,” said the man with the gun to Steve’s head. “We’re taking a little detour.”

They brought Bucky out of the van with much more caution. He looked furious.

Steve had never seen him look like that before.

They were out on what looked like a back road off the highway. It was still night, and the cold seeped through Steve’s clothes and into his bones.

There was another large truck parked in front of the one they’d just climbed out of. The man gestured to it.

“Put him in there,” he ordered. The men surrounding Bucky started hauling him towards the new truck, and Bucky visibly panicked.

“Where are you taking him?” Bucky shouted. “I told you I’d cooperate, what are you doing?”

“Eh,” the man said dismissively. “Just got a new message from headquarters. They just want us to shoot you up with the good stuff and make sure you’re all nice and sleepy for when you get there. Apparently they think you’re still dangerous, even with this,” he said, shaking Steve’s shoulders, “as collateral.”

“No, no, look,” Bucky said quickly. He was starting to strain against the arms holding him, his eyes fixed on the man holding onto Steve. “You want me to work for you, right? Give you information, turn against them. I’ll do it, I’ll do whatever you want, just keep him alive.”

“You make a good point,” the man said. “But maybe you should have thought about that before you killed four of my men.”

Bucky tensed, and Steve panicked. They were using him to hurt Bucky, he didn’t know why but they were, and he had to move.

The man holding him was the only one within a few feet’s distance. Clearly, they didn’t view Steve as any sort of threat or flight risk, and he wasn’t naïve enough to think that he could go against their numbers and their guns.

But he was desperate, and he was filled with as much adrenaline as his weak heart could pump.

He twisted his arm free of the man and ran.

“Hey!” the man shouted. “Fuck!”

Steve ran. He had no plan, he didn’t know what he was doing, but he knew they were about to kill him.

“Steve!” Bucky shouted, and then Steve felt something slam into his back.

He hit the ground face first, cracking his nose and cheekbone against the pavement. He – there was something on his back. Or in it. There was something in his back.

A chill started to seep down from his shoulders and through his back and arms. He tried to suck in a breath, but his lungs hitched and froze before he could even take a breath. This wasn’t asthma, this was, there was something in his throat and then blood was filling his mouth, too.

 _I think they shot me,_ Steve thought. His ears were ringing.

There was a bright flash of pain in his back, and then the cold sensation turned to numbness.

He could distantly hear Bucky shouting, but it was muffled.

Something was… beside him. A person. Steve fought back his instincts with everything he had. He desperately needed to take a breath, he wanted to struggle for that breath but –

Something hard hit him in the ribs. He felt the impact, but not the pain, and he didn’t make a sound. He knew his eyelids fluttered, but his face was pressed so solidly into the pavement that the person didn’t see.

“Yeah, he’s definitely dead,” they called, and then Steve heard the sound of their heavy boots retreating.

Everything started to fade. Sounds, the feeling of the cold ground underneath him, the numbness in his body.

He was so tired, but he had to… Bucky was… Bucky… he…

He was sinking down, somewhere warm. Warm. Warm, and quiet, and then –

Tires screeched to a halt beside him, and then suddenly hands were on his back.

Steve wanted to groan as awareness started to flood back in, but there was too much blood in his throat and a heaviness in his chest.

“Oh, no,” a woman’s voice said. “Oh, dear. Honey!”

“I’m right here,” a man said. “Okay, don’t turn him over yet.”

“We need to clear his airways!”

“I know, I’m just checking – okay. Go for it.”

Steve’s world rolled around him, and bright hot pain flashed all over his body. He tried to scream, but he choked instead.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” the woman said hurriedly. “Hi, sweetheart. My name’s Georgia, and I’m a doctor. So’s my husband, so you’re in good hands. We’re gonna get you to a hospital, okay? William? Are they on their way?”

“Twenty minutes, max.”

“Okay,” Georgia said. “Oh, no. Gabrielle! Get back in the car!”

“But Mom – “

“Back in the car, Gabby!”

Steve couldn’t tell what they were doing to him. Everything hurt, but he had to tell them that Bucky –

Another flash of pain bloomed in Steve’s chest, and then awareness was ripped away from him.

 

It hurt.

Everything hurt. It hurt so much. Steve wanted to die, he wanted to die, he didn’t know what was happening but everything was on fire and –

There was screaming, he was screaming –

Sam was shouting –

Bucky –

He wanted Bucky –

It stopped.

 

Steve woke up sharply. The minute he felt his senses start to come back online, he jumped at it.

He fought his way back slowly, but managed to get his eyes open. He blinked a few times to clear his vision as his hearing caught up.

He was in… well, it looked like a hospital, but it wasn’t. Steve had spent his fair share of time in hospitals, and there were something off about this one.

It looked like a generic hospital room, at first glance, but the machines were too clean and sleek. The furniture looked genuinely comfortable, as opposed to barely functional, and the hallway outside was quiet.

Hospitals were noisy places even in the dead of night, and this was the opposite.

Also, Natasha was standing at the end of his bed.

Steve blinked at her a few times before he also noticed that Sam was sitting in a chair next to his bed. He looked exhausted.

“Welcome back,” Natasha said.

She didn’t look anything like she normally did. Steve was using to seeing her in yoga pants and a t-shirt, with her hair loose and comfortable.

Now, she was wearing some type of uniform. Her hair was sharply pulled back away from her face, and there was something drastically different about her demeanor.

“What – “ Steve tried to say, but he coughed instead. His throat was dry.

“Here,” Sam said quickly. He leaned forward and helped Steve drink from a glass of water.

“Thanks,” Steve croaked. He fixed his gaze on Natasha again. “Where am I?”

“You’re in a hospital,” she said.

“No, I’m not.”

Natasha’s eyes flicked to Sam and then back to Steve again. “Okay. You’re in a medical facility. Two civilians found you on the side of the road and brought you to the nearest hospital. You - ”

Steve interrupted her. “Where’s Bucky?”

Natasha stared at him for a long moment. “I don’t know.”

Steve tried to sit up, but something was… off. His head swam, and he slipped back down onto his pillows.

“Careful,” Sam said quickly. “You’re still healing.”

Steve rolled his head back to look at Natasha. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” Natasha said. “We don’t know where he is. Look, Steve, we owe you an explanation.”

“Yeah, you do,” Steve said. “I don’t – I don’t _understand_.”

Natasha’s face shifted a little. “Have you heard of SHIELD, Steve?”

Steve stared at her. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Sam snorted, and Natasha gave him a look.

“No, Steve,” she said. “I’m not kidding you.”

Steve opened his mouth to deny SHIELD’s existence, but Natasha looked deadly serious.

“I work for SHIELD,” Natasha said. “So does Clint, and so does Bucky.”

Steve stared at her. “But… we’ve been best friends since we were six years old, and we’ve lived together since we were seventeen. I don’t… how did… how did I not know?”

“He was recruited at age sixteen,” Natasha said, and his world spun.

“But we –“ Steve started to say, and then cut himself off.

The longest he and Bucky ad ever been apart was for two months. Bucky was on three different sports teams at their high school, and some coach saw him playing soccer and recruited him for a summer camp. Bucky had been thrilled, and Steve had been despondent.

Bucky went off to camp, and Steve spent the summer working as many hours as he could in a local coffee shop. He spent the rest of the time sitting at home watching movies by himself.

It definitely hadn’t been his favourite summer ever, but it wasn’t the worst either. He made it through, Bucky came home, and they went right back to school like they hadn’t even been apart.

It must have been then. That’s the only time it could have happened.

Natasha and Sam were quiet as he thought this through.

“Did he do it full time?” Steve asked. “For work. When he said he was going to work – “

“He was coming here,” Natasha said.

“But I’ve been to his office,” Steve said. He felt like his mind was closing in. “You were there, Clint was there, you had cubicles – “

“We do that day twice a year,” Natasha said. “We rent out an office building and let family members and friends comes to visit on a set schedule.”

Steve looked at Sam, who shrugged hopelessly.

“Wait,” Steve said, awareness suddenly dawning on him. “Sam – “

“Didn’t know about this until like ten hours ago,” Sam finished, and Steve relaxed a little.

“One of the nurses at the hospital you were taken to recognized you from when you were in there with those heart problems and called your emergency contacts,” Natasha explained. “Obviously Bucky didn’t pick up, but Sam did. He got there before we did, and he wouldn’t let us take you without an explanation.”

“Which they didn’t have time to give, so they just dragged me along,” Sam said. “Literally.”

“We were in a hurry!” Natasha said. “Anyway. Steve – hey, Steve, it’s okay.”

Steve was trying to focus on the conversation, he really was, but he just felt so strange and he was so fucking terrified. Every second they spent here was another second Bucky was gone.

“It’s not,” Steve managed to get out between his clenched teeth. “It’s not fucking okay, Natasha. Why did they… why did this happen?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m not lying to you, I honestly don’t know. We don’t know why they came after him now, other than that they’re getting desperate. We had an… altercation with them last week, and I personally think we just pissed them off.”

Steve stared at her. “But you’re looking for him?”

“Yes,” Natasha said firmly. “It’s our number one priority, Steve.”

Steve opened his mouth to reply, and then something else occurred to him. “Why aren’t I dead?”

“Uh,” Sam said, and looked at Natasha.

Natasha sighed and leaned forward a little. “Earlier, you asked why Bucky did this. Why he worked for us. I can’t speak for what they promised him when he signed up, but I know the reason he stuck around. The medical facilities we have here are more advanced, Steve. He was in talks with the doctors here to see what they could do for you. To see if they could help you.”

Steve stared at her.

“They had to… accelerate it, a little,” Natasha explained slowly. “You actually died twice before they got it to work.”

“Got what to work?” Steve asked.

Natasha glanced at Sam. “Can you turn his sedatives down a little?”

Sam gave her a doubtful look, but reached over and hit a few buttons on the machines next to Steve’s bed.

Steve let his head fall back, and then, just like that, the fuzzy feeling in his head started to disappear.

“Woah,” he said, blinking. “That was fast.”

“Okay,” Natasha said firmly. “I need you to take some deep breaths. You’re hooked up to way too much many machines for you to panic.”

“Why would I – “ Steve started, and then he pushed himself upright. “What the fuck?”

Steve panicked. His body wasn’t his, this wasn’t right, those legs weren’t his, those arms weren’t his, he didn’t sign up for this –

It ended up taking Sam, Natasha, two other agents, and three doctors to calm Steve down again. He also ripped out two of his IVs, and had to get his heart rate down before the nurses would get close enough to put them back in.

When he was finally settled again and Sam was reassuringly patting his shoulder, another doctor came to stand next to Natasha at the side of Steve’s bed.

“I am very sorry that it had to be this way,” he said, in a heavy accent. “I did not intend to force this upon you. I would have asked for your consent, if there had been time. You were close to death, and your medical proxy said that it is what you would want.”

Sam waved a hand, looking anxious. Steve gave him a little smile.

“I get it,” Steve said, staring down at his new hands. “I… it’ll take some getting used to, but… I’m alive.”

“Yes,” the doctor said with a smile. “You are.”

Steve looked up at Natasha. “So how soon can I go after Bucky?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely thought I could do this whole fic in just two chapters and I was definitely wrong

“Ow,” Natasha said, rubbing her jaw.

“Oh my god,” Steve said, jumping backwards and stretching his hands out. “I’m so sorry, are you – “

Natasha rolled her eyes and then kicked Steve in the stomach. He hit the ground, curling in on himself.

“This is why I’m concerned about you, Steve,” she said, looking down at him. “You’ve got the physical strength and dexterity, but if you hesitant to hurt someone, you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“You’re not someone, though,” Steve wheezed. “Also, this is practice.”

Natasha frowned. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

“Yes, during my time at the computer animation studio I routinely killed thousands,” Steve said, finally getting his breath back. “No, Nat, I’ve never killed anyone. I don’t even like watching those shows on TLC about murder.”

“Then you see why I’m concerned."

“Nat,” Steve said firmly, climbing back to his feet. “I’ve been training here for over a year. I can handle it. Especially if our lives were on the line.”

“I don’t want you to have to handle it,” Natasha said. “I know you want to do this, Steve, but you didn’t choose this life. Bucky dragged you into it.”

“He didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, but it happened,” she said.

Steve didn’t want to talk about it. “Are we gonna go again, or are we done for today?”

Natasha stared at him for a long moment. “We’re done,” she said finally, and walked away.

 

Steve’s resolve was tested a week later. He was eating lunch in the cafeteria when the alarms went off. Because he wasn’t a full-fledged agent, Steve was used to heading back to his room when something like this happened to stay out of everyone’s way. He pressed himself to the wall and let the more seasoned agents run past him towards the front lobby, and then made his way through the hallways.

He was almost to his room when he ran into Sam.

“Hey,” Sam said. He must have been eating lunch too, because he still had half a sandwich in his hand. “You know what’s going on?”

“Nope,” Steve said. “Something down in the front lobby, I think. I – “

A bullet cracked the glass of a picture frame right next to Sam’s head, and they both dropped to the floor.

“Shit!” Sam said, and both of them scrambled to get their weapons from their belts as two strangers ran around the corner. Both were heavily armed.

Everyone at SHIELD carried some kind of weapon at all times, even the trainees, so when the woman in front pointed what looked like some kind of ray gun at Sam, Steve lifted his own gun and shot her. The woman went down, and when the man behind her turned his gun on Steve, Steve shot him as well.

The hallway was strangely quiet for a moment, apart from the sound of shouting from downstairs as well as the distant ringing of alarms.

“Uh,” Sam said. “Thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve said, and then they scrambled back to their feet again and ran.

 

Steve was sitting on the floor of his room later that night, staring at the wall, when he heard a knock on the door.

“It’s open,” Steve said.

Natasha walked in and shut the door behind her. She sat down on the floor too, her back against the wall opposite Steve.

“So,” she said. “Guess that answers my question.”

“Guess so,” Steve said.

Natasha kept her eyes on him. “Are you okay?”

Steve shrugged. “Yeah. I… I dunno, I thought I’d be… more upset, but… they were going to hurt Sam.”

“Don’t think that you have to be devastated over your first kill, Steve,” she said. “Some people can’t handle it, others can.”

Steve nodded. “Is it bad that I’m more preoccupied with worrying about Bucky than worrying about the fact that I just took the lives of two people?”

“No,” Natasha said simply.

“Okay.”

Natasha left a few minutes later, leaving Steve alone in his room.

He stared at the wall for a while longer and then got up, sitting down on his bed. He pulled open the drawer in his bedside table and took out the letter he kept in there.

Natasha had handed it to him three days after he’d woken up in SHIELD’s medical facility.

“He wanted me to give this to you if something happened to him,” she’d said, holding out the envelope. “I haven’t read it.”

Steve had read it almost every day since then. It was handwritten, and it was one of the only tangible things he had of Bucky’s. Since Steve had technically died at the civilian hospital before SHIELD had arrived, he was legally dead. SHIELD had cleared out their apartment and taken almost everything as evidence. They’d given Steve a few of his photo albums, some of his blankets, and that was about it. Steve’s old clothes obviously didn’t fit him anymore, and they’d wanted almost everything of Bucky’s.

The letter now had a careful piece of tape holding it together, after Steve had drunkenly ripped it into two pieces one night because he was angry. Sam had gently pulled it out of Steve’s hands and told him that he’d “thank him in the morning,” which turned out to be true. This stupid letter was the only possession that Steve cared about.

He carefully opened it up, smoothing out the wrinkles and creases in it.

_Steve,_

_I asked Natasha to give this to you if anything ever happened to me. So, if you’re reading this, then I’m probably either dead or dying. That sucks, I guess, but what can you do._

_You probably have a lot of questions, and you’re probably really angry with me. As you should be. I lied to you, I’ve lied to you for a really long time and you should be angry at me for that. Hell, I’m angry with myself._

_I wish I could tell you, Steve, but I can’t for a few reasons. The main one is that I’m not supposed to. I’ll get in huge trouble. Maybe that’s selfish of me, but I don’t really want to get into that trouble._

_The second reason is that I don’t want you involved in this. I made this choice, but you didn’t, and you shouldn’t have to be dragged into it because of me. I know that if I tell you you’re going to want to know more, and you’re going to want to help. Hell, you’ll probably try and sign up yourself, and I don’t want that for you, Steve. You love your job and our life and I shouldn’t take that away from you just because of a decision I made when I was sixteen._

_Speaking of which, that’s when this happened. They recruited me at that summer camp that I went to (turns out it wasn’t actually for soccer, which kind of sucked), but they gave me a choice. I said yes, and then they gave me another choice when I turned eighteen, which was to sign up for good, to become a real agent. I said yes again._

_Steve, their medical programs here are way, way beyond anything they have in the normal system. They can help you, Steve, and they promised me that they will. They can fix your lungs and your heart. It’s not going to be easy, I have to convince them that you’re trustworthy enough to keep it a secret and also that you deserve this, but I think I can make it happen. Can you imagine?? You’re not going to have to be sick anymore, Steve._

_I’m not going to pretend that this was a totally altruistic decision. I didn’t know about all this medical stuff when I signed up. I just thought that I was going to get to do cool shit and save lives and have a really, really cool job, and get paid a lot of money for it. That’s why I signed up. And assuming that I’m dead now, I really hope that I died for a good cause. Also, Natasha promised me that even if I died, she’d stay on their case to make sure you get into the medical program here._

_So. That’s that. Long story short, I signed up because I wanted to be a secret agent and I stuck around because of what they offer here. I lied to you to keep you safe (I hope), and I hope that one day you can forgive me for that. I love you, and I’m sorry that me dying means you have to do the dishes all the time._

_Love,_

_Bucky_

Steve carefully folded up the letter again and put it back in the drawer.

 

 

“I’m so mad at him,” Steve said. He took another bite of his sandwich. “But at the same time, I’m so damn worried about him that I stop being mad and start panicking instead.”

“That’s understandable,” Sam said. He was sitting across from Steve in the cafeteria, where they’d stopped to grab a snack after work.

“I just…” Steve said, staring morosely at the sandwich. “I wish we could just fight it out, you know? I could yell at him and then go to sleep and I’d be over it by the next morning, but I can’t. So I just sit here and stew in it.”

“I don’t know what to suggest,” Sam said honestly. “I think you’re doing your best under the circumstances. We’ll find him, Steve.”

In an ugly twist of fate, Steve overheard a conversation between two other agents standing at the other end of the hallway when he headed back to his room,. He had paused to read the news bulletin that was posted on the wall, and they clearly didn’t think he could hear him.

“You think they’re gonna find Barnes?” the man asked, leaning on the wall with one arm.

“No,” the woman said, and snorted. “He’s either dead, or they’ve turned him.”

“You think so?”

“Yes,” she said firmly. “You really think _Barnes_ wouldn’t be able to escape if he wanted to?”

“Yeah, I guess,” the man said, and then caught Steve staring at him. “Wait, shut up, shh.”

“What?” the woman asked, and then turned and saw Steve. “He can’t hear us.”

“I can hear you,” Steve said.

They fell silent, and Steve walked past them down the hallway.

He heard them laugh tentatively when he closed the door behind him.

“That was awkward,” the woman said, and the man laughed again.

Steve flopped down on his bed and ground the heel of his hand against his eyes.

 

Another year passed.

Steve graduated, and he quickly became one of the more popular agents to have along on a mission. According to Natasha, that was mostly because he’d put himself between danger and another agent, but Steve didn’t care. He stayed busy, and the more missions he went on, the higher his security clearance got.

The higher his security clearance, the more information he could access about Bucky.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to access. There was blurry video footage of Steve and Bucky being marched out of their building on the night it all happened, but that was the last time Bucky was caught on any sort of camera that SHIELD had access to (which was pretty much every camera.)

He hadn’t been seen or heard from since the night he disappeared. Pretty much everyone at SHIELD thought he was dead, except for Steve.

He’d gotten used to people patting him on the shoulder and telling him that maybe he should start to think about letting it go.

Steve had also garnered a reputation for being discerning when he used weapons in the field. Everyone thought it was because he was reluctant to hurt people, which was only partially true. Hydra had developed a tendency to wear masks, and so Steve refused to fatally wound someone unless he could see their face.

Either way, it had paid off for him. He had his own team now, and they were quickly rising in SHIELD’s ranks.

They were efficient, steady, and always got the job done. Steve had never had a mission fail, actually. He’d had some close calls and they’d lost two people, once, but in SHIELD’s eyes Steve had a one hundred percent success rate.

That was why they were called in to investigate a seemingly normal coffee shop on the corner of an average residential street.

Steve read through the information they were given. He didn’t actually see any patterns or warning signs to watch out for, but SHIELD has flagged it, so there they were.

“Nat?” Steve said, making his way down the sidewalk toward the building. “Anything?”

“Nothing,” she said. She was wandering around in the antique store across the street, pretending to shop for desks. “It looks normal.”

Steve paused to tie his shoe, moving out of the flow of foot traffic.

“Everybody pull back,” he said under his breath. “There’s too many civilians.”

“Copy,” three members of his team said in unison.

“No, wait,” Natasha said. “Steve, I don’t think these are civilians.”

Steve was quickly reaching the end of socially acceptable time to tie his shoe, so he stood up and kept walking. “What?”

“In the coffee shop,” she said. “They’re – yeah, I just saw it.”

“Nat,” Steve hissed, ducking his head. “Elaborate?”

“They’re definitely Hydra,” Natasha said, her voice confident. “Every time someone goes into the back room or washroom, somebody new comes out instead. They’re switching off.”

 “You’re sure?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Alright,” Steve said. “Let’s – “

Steve heard the sound of the explosion before he felt it. He had just enough time to duck his head and put himself between the building and the family walking beside him before the walls of the building collapsed.

Steve’s team babbled in his ear, all talking over one another.

“Fall back,” Steve said, scrambling back to his feet.

Another explosion sounded, and the building they’d been about to enter collapsed in on itself.

 

They made it back to base in record time.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked as he shouldered his way into the already crowded room. “Sam?”

“We don’t know,” Sam said. He was leaning back against the wall, watching the screens lining the opposite wall with wide eyes. “No one has any idea.”

Steve stared up at the screens. They were showing footage of building after building imploding and collapsing. From what Steve could see, the footage looked like it was coming in from all over the world.

“Are these… are those all…” he asked slowly, not taking his eyes from the screen as more SHIELD employees piled into the room.

“Hydra,” Sam finished. “They’re all Hydra. More than we even knew about, we only had half of these confirmed and some of them suspected.”

“This wasn’t us,” Steve said.

“Nope. And nobody else else is claiming it yet, either.”

Steve’s phone beeped, and he opened it to find a message from Natasha urging him to get back to their jet.

“There’s one base left that hasn’t gone down yet,” she explained as their team all rushed back on. “SHIELD wants us there.”

Steve gave her a look. “I’m not sending anybody in if it’s going to explode.”

“We only have orders to go in if we think it’s safe,” Natasha said. “They just want us to try and take stock of the situation and catch any stragglers.”

“Alright,” Steve allowed. "But there’s no way I’m going to send anyone in.”

 

The base they were heading to was only a few states away, and it took them no time at all to get there. Steve was the first one off the jet, as usual.

The building was in an industrial district of a small city, but there was no one around. No civilians walking down the sidewalks, no Hydra agents running around. Nothing.

“I feel like we’re too late,” Natasha mused as she followed him off the jet.

Steve carefully made his way around the building, taking care to stay a few feet back in case this one came down too.

He glanced up at the windows of the nondescript grey building, and then narrowed his eyes when he saw movement inside.

“Nat, I’m going in,” he called. “Everyone, wait here.”

“What happened to ‘there’s no way I’m going to send anyone in?’” Natasha asked in an eerily accurate imitation of Steve’s voice.

“I’m not sending anyone in,” Steve said as he broke the lock on the door and shouldered his way inside. “I’m going in myself. You know how Hydra works, Nat, they might have innocent civilians in there.”

“And it might blow up in three seconds,” she snapped. “Steve, get out of there.”

“Bucky might be here,” Steve explained, and then he was in the building.

It was actually mostly empty inside. There were a few bodies strewn around here and there, but the building was otherwise fairly quiet.

It was definitely Hydra, though. Steve would have known even if their ugly dark symbol hadn’t been plastered on every wall and door.

He ran into a few people trying to flee the building as he made his way through the floors. They clearly didn’t expect to see him, and he shot them with his tranq gun before they even had time to pull their own weapons.

There was the most destruction on the third floor. There’d clearly been a fight here, between the damaged equipment and walls and the bodies littering the hallways.

Steve could hear some sort of movement coming from one of the rooms down the hallway, so he carefully made his way there. There was no one left alive on this floor to bother him, so it only took him a few moments to make it through the floor and to the source of the sound.

The door leading into the room had been blown off its hinges, leaving a gaping hole in the wall. Steve carefully crept up to the entrance to the room, moving as quietly as he could.

The room was filled with computers, desks, and large screens. There were more bodies on the floor of this room, too, and there was only one person still alive inside.

He was sitting slumped in a chair in front of the main wall of screens, typing slowly on a keyboard. The screens seemed to be showing almost exactly the same footage as in SHIELDD’s headquarters, Hydra base after Hydra base in ruins.

Steve took a step inside, and broken glass crunched under his foot. It was quiet enough that even Steve could barely hear it, but the man sitting in the chair tensed.

“There’s no point,” the man said. “You can kill me if you want, but this place is still gonna be nothing in under four minutes – “

“Bucky?” Steve said.

Steve couldn’t breathe. The man sitting in the chair looked nothing like Bucky, his posture was nothing like Bucky’s, but his voice –

The man slowly and painfully turned around in his chair.

“Bucky,” Steve breathed, relief washing over him like cold water. He was alive.

He looked terrible. His hair was too long, and visibly greasy. His cheekbones were too prominent, and his eyes were sunken.

“Bucky,” Steve said again. He took a step forward, and Bucky pointed a gun at his face.

Steve froze.

“Buck, it’s me,” he said carefully. “It’s Steve.”

Bucky stared at him. His other hand had stilled on the keyboard, and the arm holding the gun was trembling badly.

“Steve?” he said after a long moment, frowning.

“Yeah,” Steve said quickly. “Yeah, Buck, it’s me, I know I look different but it’s me – “

“No,” Bucky mumbled, shaking his head. “No, no…”

“Buck – “

“Shut up!” Bucky shouted. He closed his eyes, turning his face away from Steve.

The screens behind him showed nothing but rubble. They were running out of time

“Bucky,” Steve tried again. “I – “

“No, they killed him,” Bucky mumbled. He was slurring his words a little. “They killed him, they killed him – “

“No, they didn’t,” Steve said desperately. “Bucky, I survived. They gave me those medical treatments that you were trying to get for me, and it worked. It worked, Buck, I’m okay.”

“No,” Bucky said again, but his voice wavered this time. He opened his eyes again to stare blearily at Steve.

“See, look at me,” Steve said quickly. “I looked different, I know, but it’s me. I’ve been looking for you, Buck, I’ve been trying to find you – “

“This is a trick,” Bucky muttered slowly. He swayed slightly in his seat.

Steve could hear Natasha shouting at him in his earpiece, but he ignored it. “It’s not. We grew up together, Buck. I broke my arm when I was fifteen trying to get the baseball down from the tree because you got it stuck up there. When you were nineteen you convinced me to go bungee jumping, which was a terrible idea and I was sick for a week afterward – “

“Stop,” Bucky said, but there was no conviction behind it. He looked like he was going to pass out any second.

“Bucky, we have to go,” Steve said. “We have to get out of here, this isn’t safe – “

“I know,” Bucky mumbled. “It’s gonna blow up, just like the others. I blew them all up.”

“Bucky, _please_ ,” Steve begged.

Bucky ignored him and slumped back over the keyboard, letting the gun in his hand clatter to the floor.

Steve darted forward, over to where Bucky was sitting. He grabbed his shoulders and hauled him up.

“No,” Bucky mumbled again. “No, no, I gotta… have to make sure…”

“We can see it blow up from outside,” Steve said as he set to dragging Bucky out of the building.

Bucky slumped against him and let Steve pulled him out of the room and down the stairs again.

“All of them,” he said into Steve’s shoulder. “I got… all of them…”

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve agreed, trying not to trip over a body lying right in front of a door. “Just a little bit further, okay?”

“Mhm,” Bucky said, and then they stumbled outside.

“Nat,” Steve called, and suddenly she was in front of them.

“Holy shit,” she said, and then darted around to Bucky’s other side to help Steve drag him away from the building. Bucky reflexively jerked back from her outstretched hands, and then he paused.

“Natasha?” he said, blinking slowly at her.

Natasha ducked under his arm, slinging it over her shoulders. “Yeah, Barnes. Good to see you again.”

Bucky mumbled something incoherent, and they finally made it to the other side of the street.

By then, Steve’s team had cleared the street and the surrounding buildings of civilians. Just in time, too, because just as they stumbled onto the opposite sidewalk, there was a muffled sound of an explosion and the building collapsed in on itself.

Bucky collapsed too, slumping down onto the concrete. Steve and Natasha caught him, but Bucky didn’t seem interested in trying to stand back up.

“Bucky,” Steve said helplessly, and Bucky finally lifted his head to look at him.

He frowned a little, staring at Steve with half-lidded eyes.

“Steve,” he said, and reached out to tap the side of Steve’s face gently. “Steve?”

“Yeah, Buck?”

Bucky didn’t say anything else. He just stared at Steve, his eyes sliding closed and then opening again.

 

By the time they got him into the jet, Bucky was almost incoherent.

“Barnes, I need you to focus,” Natasha said, crouching next to the bed they’d gotten Bucky onto. “I need you to tell me what just happened.”

“Nat,” Steve warned. He was sitting next to Bucky, keeping one hand firmly on his shoulder. “Now’s not – “

She gave him a hard look and then turned her attention back to Bucky.

He had curled up on the bed, pushing his face into the mattress. He was trembling under Steve’s hand, and he kept muttering things that didn’t sound like they were in English.

“I didn’t… I did…” he said, in response to Natasha’s question.

“Barnes, do you know why every Hydra stronghold that we knew about and more that we didn’t are currently destroyed?” Natasha asked.

“Yeah,” Bucky mumbled. “Yeah, ‘cause… I… they… I blew them up, from – from the inside.”

Natasha and Steve exchanged another look.

“You did this?” Natasha asked, more gently than Steve was used to hearing from her. “All of it?”

“Yeah,” Bucky repeated. He rolled onto his back, his eyes roving around. “Steve?”

“Right here,” Steve said quickly, squeezing Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky rolled his head around a little, clearly trying to get his eyes to focus. “Steve,” he said again, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry – “

“Bucky, it’s okay,” Steve said hurriedly, but Bucky’s eyes were already sliding shut.

“What’s wrong with him?” Steve asked, a little frantically. “Nat?”

“I think he’s on something,” she said calmly. “We’ll get him checked out when we get back.”

Steve resisted the urge to shake Bucky awake again. He’d relaxed in his sleep, and he looks more like the Bucky Steve remembered now.

“I’ll be right here, Buck,” he said, even though he knew Bucky probably couldn’t hear him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Steve kept that promise all the way up until they were safely back in SHIELD’s headquarters. The medical team swarmed them once they were back inside, pulling Bucky’s stretcher away from Steve.

“Hey,” he protested, trying to follow them. “Hey!”

“They’ll take care of him,” Natasha said, gently pushing Steve back.

“But – “

“You’ll just get in the way.”

Steve knew Natasha was right, but it was still hard to let them take Bucky away.

 

It didn’t end up taking too long. Steve paced outside the door and reluctantly scarfed down a sandwich that Sam brought for him. He didn’t even bother getting changed out of his tac gear, because that would have required going back to his apartment and he didn’t have time for that.

They called him in a few hours later. They’d moved Bucky to his own room in the medical wing, and Steve’s heart clenched when he stepped inside.

Bucky looked better, at least. They’d cleaned him up a little, and changed him out of the filthy clothes he’d been wearing before. He had a few IVs going into one of his arms, but there was already more colour in his face than there had been when they’d taken him aback.

Steve sat down in the chair next to his bed. He reached out and took Bucky’s hand, reveling in being able to touch him again.

Bucky shifted slightly. His eyelids fluttered, and after a few minutes he got them open all the way. He stared at Steve, blinking slowly.

“Hey,” Steve said. “How’re you feeling?”

Bucky shifted again and didn’t say anything. His eyes looked a little clearer than they had before, but he still seemed out of it.

“Let me know if you want some water or something,” Steve said. “I don’t know if they’ll let you eat, but I can ask.”

Bucky stared at him.

“Steve,” he finally said, his voice dry and rough. “You’re alive.”

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve said. He wondered briefly how many times they were going to have to have this conversation, and then decided he could have it as many times as necessary if it meant having Bucky back.

Bucky’s eyes drifted to Steve’s tac gear. “You… work for SHIELD?”

“Yes,” Steve said. “I do now. Sam does too.”

Bucky’s heart rate started to pick up. “But… I didn’t… I didn’t _want_ this – “

“I know,” Steve said hurriedly, squeezing Bucky’s hand.

Bucky was becoming visibly upset, and his heart rate monitor was starting to increase the frequency with which it beeped. “Steve, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I – this isn’t – I”

“Bucky, I know, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Steve tried, but Bucky pulled his hand away and rolled over onto his side, away from Steve.

No matter how many times Steve said his name or assured him that everything was alright, Bucky refused to look at him. He curled up, hiding from both Steve and the nurses that regularly came in to check his vitals.

“Alright,” Steve said finally. “I’m gonna go, but I’ll be back later, okay? Get some sleep.”

Bucky didn’t move. Steve could practically feel the misery radiating off him, but maybe if he left Bucky would at least relax a little.

“Okay,” Steve said again, and got up.

Natasha was standing in the hallway outside, talking to some other agents in a low voice. She looked up when Steve came out and walked over.

“I’ll stay with him,” she said.

“Don’t let them interrogate him,” Steve said. “Please.”

“I won’t. I doubt they’d get much out of him right now even if they did.”

Steve sighed. He was so tired, and he just wanted to go back in there with Bucky and lie down.

But Bucky didn’t want him there, and so Steve went home.

 

He had his own apartment, now, not just a single room. It was still in SHIELD’s headquarters, but it was in a separate building that was mainly designated for residential use.

Steve let himself in and shut the door behind him. He dragged himself to the washroom, pulling his tac gear off as he went.

He showered and made himself eat dinner before collapsing into bed, shoving his face into the pillow. The weight of not knowing if Bucky was alive or not was gone, at least. Bucky was physically safe, and Steve knew exactly where he was.

But Bucky was hurting, and Steve knew that there wasn’t much he could do to fix that.

**Author's Note:**

> [me, on tumblr](http://cameronwolfe.tumblr.com)


End file.
